


Agent Arizona

by Carolina_Nikos



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carolina_Nikos/pseuds/Carolina_Nikos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Private Cross joined the army after her mother was killed fighting the covenant. But after being stuck in a useless canyon with a bunch of idiots, for a mysterious organisation known only as 'PFL', she starts to wonder if things are being hidden from her...</p><p>These events are fairly canon to the original story, but new characters slightly alter the story in many places. The time in blood gulch is before the traditional blood gulch crew had arrived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

“Hey.” 

“Yeah?”

“You ever wonder why we’re here?”

I thought. Yes, I do. I wonder how a war between aliens and humans suddenly ended and a civil war started during my 3 month basic training. I wonder why command would put us in a canyon of no strategic use in the war. I wonder why I was so bad in basic training. I wonder if my sister is alive. There is no end to the questions that I could ask about what I am doing, sitting outside a blue base in black armour doing absolutely nothing.

“To win the war?” I reply.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Cross, get in here!”

I jumped down into the base. Probably wondering how to turn on the computer again, I bet.

My sergeant stood next to a computer. “Um. How do you do that thing, you know, where it- it um…”

“Turns on?” I suggested, inwardly face-palming.

“Yes… Um wait.” He looked confused. “Wait, do I say that? Turn on!”

I shoved him out of the way and pressed the power button.

“Right.” He said.

“Do you, need the computer for anything?”

“No. But our reconnaissance says those dirty reds have got one of the computer thingies, and so must we!”

Yes. The computer that we have had for years undoubtedly. It was just my luck to be assigned to a canyon filled with complete idiots. I had only been here for a week, and yet I wonder how my entire squad had survived. Probably because, from what I had seen, the other team was just as dumb.

The Sergeant left the room. Sitting down by the computer, I wondered whether there was anything I should do. I doubted it, if the computer had been turned off for who know how long before I got here. Nevertheless I thought the best start was to ‘check’ command. It was something I had done all the time in training, checking me and my sister's test score, comparing us to the squad. But when I logged in, after a tiny bit of, let's say, slightly editing my security clearance, the structure was different. Instead of the normal UNSC command, it had a command with the acronym PFL. It didn’t match up to anything I could think of.

Investigating I found folders and folders making no sense, files named after states of America, several labelled 'experimental', or 'private'. Eventually I found one labelled blue army. I clicked on it, then made my way to blood gulch, finding each of my teammates’ entries in the database.

Private Jimmy:

Age: 26 years

Reason for exclusion: Low test scores

Exclusion? Jimmy was included, he was on patrol with me a few hours earlier. I went through the other entries. Each had a reason for ‘exclusion’, most being low test scores. Persistent team-killing was for one. I arrived at mine.

Private Cross:

Age: 17

Reason for exclusion: Low fighting scores

I thought back to basic training. I had always been the worst. All the other soldiers in my group could hit a target from distances I could never hope to achieve. But what did this mean?

I went back up the file line and found a folder labelled Red vs Blue. Inside, an overview document read ‘The aim of these simulation outposts is to test freelancer agents skills in a safe environment. Personnel to staff these outposts will be selected from those with low test scores or other reason excluding them from combat.’

“Cross. We need you out here! The reds just got a new vehicle and we need to check it out.”

What did it mean? That red vs blue was a lie? It made sense I guess. I mean, a box canyon in the middle of nowhere, no military value.

I logged off the computer and turned it off.

What didn’t make sense to me was the PFL. Who were they, and how did they somehow gain permission to steal soldiers from right under the UNSCs noses?

Walking outside, I found my team waiting. We walked along the cliff edge before stopping in a shielded area.

I zoomed in with my sniper rifle. Three reds, gathered around what looked like a jeep. Standard attachment, not much else to it. Didn’t really seem like much of a threat to me.

“How about we return to base and show them what we found?” I suggested.

As we walked back, I noticed the little things. Maybe my posture wasn’t right, maybe I held the sniper rifle wrong. It got to me, the fact that I didn’t meet the bare minimum to fight in this war that meant so much to me. It had taken my mother, and in doing so, my father. Soon enough it would take my sister, and I wanted to make their lives count by playing a part in it too.

I sat outside the base, sniper in hand. I could practise here. I shot at a rock a couple hundred metres away.

Missed.

I tried again.

Closer, but still a miss.

I tried again, and again, get closer and closer, and even hitting it a few times.

This would be how I learnt. And some day, maybe someday soon, I would be good enough to fight. 

Project Freelancer. Set up by the oversight sub-committee, a group of political personnel playing military. Its aim was to supply elite agents to the human-covenant war. So far there were 47 operational agents, named after American states, and each with a unique fighting style.

After 2 years of researching PFL I knew its structure inside and out. Finances, employees ect. The one thing I had never found out was its purpose. It said that it was ‘aggressive AI research.’ But for all the programs I had searched though, I never found anything resembling sentient intelligence.

Until I did. Going up and down various file trees, I stumbled across a folder entitled ‘Alpha.’ Opening the files, the computer screen filled with lines and lines of code, thousands per second, too fast to register.

Looking at a screenshot, I examined the code. Functions determining personality. A name. This was no ordinary program. I had finally managed to find the AI of PFL. It wasn’t that I wanted to. Just that I wanted to be able to. A challenge you can’t beat felt impossible. It was just a matter of rising to it.

And then again, maybe if I made enough noise, someone in command would notice my military value, which I still believed I had. I had to. I didn’t make sense for me to not. What would set me apart from the others? Probability. All these things made me sure it was simply a mistake that kept me in this outpost.

But I got my wish. After a few minutes of examining the Alpha folder, the program shut down. I stared at the screen.

“What the-?”

That shouldn’t happen. The connection was fine. What had happened? I went to the computer, logged into the command server. Maybe it was a freak event, or the reds interrupting the signal.

‘Access denied. Intruder detected.’ read the screen.

Well, I guess I got noticed, at least.

“What the hell was that?”

Red lights flashed throughout the mother of invention.

The director of Project Freelancer entered the bridge.

“Counsellor, what was that?”

A man walked timidly up to the director. “We, don’t know sir. A breach in cyber security, Alpha section.”

“Alpha?” The director questioned. He looked at the screens, confirming the counsellors statement.

“Get Agents North Dakota, Washington and York in here now.”

The counsellor bowed his head. “Of course, director.”

I sat at the computer. What had I done? Why had I been so stupid? 

“Cross, what are you doing?”  
I turned around and saw my sargeant. He stood at the entrance to blue base, watching me.

“Just… doing… computer stuff.” I said, hoping he would let it slide and leave. They would be tracking my location. But maybe, I could stop them finding it if I got back online. If I changed the-

“Well, we need you outside. Jeeps busted and you're the only one here with training.”

“Sir, I'm in the middle of-”

“That's an order private.”

I sighed. At least I could try to drive away from PFL. I walked outside.

Agent York sat down at the terminal.  
“How long to track the transmission Agent?” the director asked.

“Not long sir.” He paused. “What will happen to them? The hacker?”

The director glared at York, who returned to typing.  
Suddenly the doors burst open, and a soldier in grey and yellow stepped in.

North Dakota laughed, “Late again Wash?” 

Agent Washington joined him. “Hey, I was at the other end of the ship. Asleep. Cut me some slack North.” He turned to the director. “What's the mission?”

“Someone has hacked into our secure, and secret files. They cannot be allowed to remain at large with this information.”

Wash and North looked at each other. “You want us to kill them?”

The director opened his mouth to reply.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Wash, North and the director turned to face York.

“I found our hacker. Some blue team member.”

“A simulation trooper?” Wash said. “How is that possible? Their test scores…”

York looked at his screen. “I don't know, but it's the source of the transmission. Blood Gulch Canyon. It was the base’s shared computer, so I don't know exactly who it was, but most of that Canyon is filled with people who failed the written tests, so there are only a few it could be.” He went back to typing.

“Right, so we've got a location.” North said. “Now what?”

The director looked down. “ Blood gulch…”

Suddenly Washington looked up, remembering something. “Wait, isn't that where-?”

“Retrieve the sim trooper.” He surveyed the agents. “Move to the hangar. Operation: Arizona is beginning. You know the protocol?”

The agents nodded, and went off to the hangar.

“Inform blue base of their arrival and send Agent Cross relocation orders.” The director said. “Any additional information Agent York?”

“None sir” came the reply. He looked at the screen. Poor kid, he thought. They didn't know what they were in for...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agents North and Washington are tasked to bring Private Cross in, and to brief her on the situation.

I stood up and looked at the warthog. The tow hook was still broken, but apart from that it looked fairly good. I was quite proud of the job actually. Patting the roof of the car, I started back to base. Who knows, maybe it had been a freak event that logged me out. Maybe all the command servers had shut down. That was plausible, right? Yeah. Of course it was…

“Hello, Private.” Before i knew what i was doing i was turned around, gun cocked, to see a soldier clad in a grey and yellow suit.

“Who are you?” I said, lowering the gun.

“Freelancer Agent Washington.” He paused, almost like laughing. “I would appreciate you not killing me.”

I paused briefly, then put the gun down.”Why are you here?” Freelancers never visited except to test their skills, which, from what i’d seen, was never good for the sim troopers involved. And, given the fact I had just hacked into the Freelancer's command...

“To escort you to Command.” There was no malice in his tone. “You did receive your new orders, right?”

Orders? Did that mean he didn’t know about the hacking?... 

I played it safe.”No, i guess our comms have been acting up…”

Washington just laughed, “Yeah, well we’ve had a few problems our end. Some hacker keeps interfering.”

Oh. Um.... Well there goes playing it safe. But I didn’t have a bullet through my skull yet, so I guessed talking a little more wouldn’t hurt.

“I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm by it.” I joked.

“Sure…” he held out his hand. “Are you coming? The pelican’s just around the corner.”

He seemed sincere enough… I just felt as if he was hiding something…

“Shouldn’t I go back and get my stuff from the base?”

“Do you need it?”

“No.”

“Then no. Come on.”

I sighed, then took his hand. “Fine…”

A voice sounded behind me. “We good here?” 

I turned to see, what I guessed to be another freelancer, sporting purple and green armour. A sniper rifle, not unlike my own was on his back.

“Yes North. We're good.” Washington called.

“OK. 479er is ready to go. Please can we not keep her waiting.” He looked at me. “I want to get this over with.”

I kind of felt that last line was suspicious. Just a bit. But i followed them around the corner to where a pelican was docked and entered the rear bay with them.

Washington looked at me. “You might want to sit down for this.”

The plane took off.

I turned to him. “Look, if you're going to kill me Washington, just get it over with.” I walked over to the door. “Or here, I'll just jump out, save you some trouble.”

“Sit down.” Said North. We're not here to kill you.” He added with a touch of humour,” and please don't call him Washington. Affects his ego no end. He's Wash, OK?”

Wash glared at North, but took the comment no further. Instead, he sat down opposite me.

“We're here to brief you. Right North?”

North looked over. “Well actually I'm here to babysit you two. But sure, whatever.”

“Fine.” Said Wash. 

“Let's start with the basics. Your name?”

“Private Cross.”

“Is that your real name?”

“Well no, but-”

“What’s your real name?”

“Private Church.”

“Why did you lie?”

“Does it matter?” I asked, feeling more and more uneasy.

“No. How old are you, Church?”

“Call me Cross, please. Church is for… someone else. And I'm 17.”

“Who is Church then?”

“My sister. Enlisted with me. Probably dead.” 

North exchanged a glance with Wash. There was something going on here, some bigger arc I hadn't spotted. It irked me.

“Right.” Said Wash. “So when did you enlist?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Fine. We'll skip that too. Just tell me if this sounds familiar. You enlisted underage with your sister. Somehow you slipped through the computer systems-”

“Probably a glitch.” I said. One of my better glitches I must add.

“Yeah. Whatever. Anyway, you got through basic. You were pretty good. Good enough to qualify for a special unit.”

“That wasn't me. I was terrible in basic… that's why I'm here.”

“Just listen.” Said Wash. “Unbeknownst to you, as soon as you started showing talent beyond your peers, you were placed in a new group for basic with seasoned special operatives. When it was found out you were underage, a senior military figure placed you in the custody of project freelancer, with the hope you could be of some use to us.”

I finally started to grasp what he was saying.” You mean-”

“Your 'insufficient combat skill’, wasn't that you weren't ready to be a standard soldier. It was that you weren't ready to be a freelancer. And now. You are. And by the way, please don't, like karate chop me if I said something wrong.”

I sat back. Suddenly all the puzzle pieces seemed to be coming together. I wasn't bad at combat, it was all an illusion. The fact I had been able to soar above all my fellow troopers in terms of skill wasn't some rounding error, it was purposeful. But one thing still didn't make sense.

“Why would I karate chop you?” I asked.

“Well, isn't martial arts your specialty?”

I thought. All freelancers had a speciality, I knew that much. But I just had standard training. I mean, I was good at martial arts, very good. But I had never shown my skills in a military capacity, and it unnerved me that he assumed it. I called his bluff.

“No. What would make you think that?”

“Well, Ca-”

“Wash.” North warned. “Step by step, remember. The last thing we need is her” he gestured to me,” freaking out and falling out the pelican.”

I got the tiniest feeling they were hiding something…but another thought had popped into my head.

“Why project freelancer?” 

North looked bemused. “What?”

“I was placed under the custody of project freelancer. Was that coincidence or...?”

North warned Wash against speaking. They seemed to have a silent conversation, which Wash won, with North putting up his hands and sitting down in the furthest away seat from us.

“When they found out you were underage, they tried to find a relative, I guess.”

“Let me guess, they couldn't find one, and drew names out a hat instead?” I said, with the slightest hint of sarcasm.

North called from the back, in a kind of singsong voice, “Carolina isn't going to like her…”

Wash sighed. ”No, they didn't. They found your father. Dr Leonard Church, Director of Project Freelancer.”

I sat back. My father. To be honest, it didn't surprise me. My father was an experienced scientist, with strong links in the military. If PFL was meant to help us win the war, my father would do anything to help. Especially given what happened to my mother. I had just hoped, that I would be free from that life now. Not that it had been a bad life. But I joined the military to fight, and it wasn't a life I wanted my family in.

“What about my sister?”

“Huh?”

I started again. “When I talked about my sister, you two looked at each other.”

“No we didn't” said Wash.

I raised my eyebrows.

“Why are you staring at us?” Said North.

I felt confused for a second. “Oh…” I felt embarrassed. “ I was raising my eyebrows, but, I guess I'm wearing a helmet… shut up”

North chuckled. “Looks like you've been replaced as top comedian Wash.”

A voice called from the front. “Approaching the mother of invention.”

As we entered the docking bay, Wash and North took off their helmets. I did the same.

“What?” I asked, when they stared at me.

“Yeah…” said Wash. “Your sister, she is alive. Anyone told you how similar you two look?” 

I rolled my eyes at him. “Wait what? My sister. Where is she?”

“She is Special Agent Carolina, martial arts specialty.” He paused. “She’s a freelancer here.”

The rear bay opened and we walked out onto the mother of invention.

Wash and North escorted me to the bridge, so i could meet the director. As we walked, I thought about everything that happened.I had discovered the alpha a.i., had fixed a jeep, Been taken by supersoldiers, and been told i am going to become a super soldier,,,

All in all, not a bad day's work, I thought.

“We’re here.” Said North. “I’m only here to get you guys off the ship, so i’m going to head off now, ok?”

“Fine.” Said Wash. He sounded a little nervous, but was trying so hard to hide it, I let it slide. “Anyway.” he joked, the doors sliding open.”Ready to meet your maker?”

I put my helmet on and walked into the bridge. “More than…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Private Cross meets the Director of Project Freelancer, Dr Leonard Church, and is given her codename.

Reaching the bridge, I stopped in front of two men, who appeared to be in charge. Wash hastened to a stop next to me, having run to catch me up.

He stood to attention. After he nudged me, I did the same. “Sir.”

The men turned, and I immediately recognised my father. The face, the green eyes hidden behind glasses. He held my gaze.

The other man interrupted the silence. “Private Church.”

“Cross.” I replied. It felt strange and wrong to call myself after my father now, even more so given the situation. The Director looked surprised, but declined to comment.

“You have been briefed?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Good. I hope there is no misunderstanding here. You were placed in the canyon to improve your skills. However, the opportunity to test these skills has not yet arisen. You have been put in this program at this time due to the damage you caused to our computers systems infrastructure, not because we are assured of your skill.”

Wash looked at me, worrying how I was reacting to this criticism. But I took it, showing no sign his words were getting to me. I nodded slightly to Wash, and he turned back.

The director continued, oblivious to our silent exchange. “As a result, your skill will be considered below others unless seen otherwise. There will be no extra consideration for this and you will join all the missions with the team.”

Wash turned. “Sir the next mission is tomor-” 

“I am aware of the facts, Agent Washington. Cross will be accompanying the team on all the mission. Any more questions Agents?” The tone in his voice made it clear he expected none.

I spoke, “Two. What do I do now, and what's my codename, or am I to continue to go by Cross?”

The director looked irritated. “Given your lack of experience, I would advise that you trained. Agent Washington can show you the training hall. As for your codename, while you are serving inside of Project Freelancer, you will be known as Agent Arizona. That will be all, agents. Dismissed.” He turned around.

Wash led me out of the room. We walked along the corridors. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of purple. “Hey Wash, wait up.” 

We turned to see North catching up to us. “Hey.” He started. “I heard you had a meeting with internals today. Mind if I asked what it was about?” 

Wash looked at me, and then back to North. “Arizona, straight along the corridor, third right, OK?”

I stayed my ground, wanting to hear their talk, and then sighed and ran off. 

I heard their voices receding as I ran. “North, you know I can't talk about that.”

“Oh come on, I’m still getting heat for using equipment…” their voices faded completely.

I focussed on the corridors around me. Third right. So far I had passed two corridors and a door. Had wash meant third corridor or third door? I turned to ask him, when a marine ran into me. Knocked to the ground, I watched the group of soldiers run past, oblivious to me. As I got up, North and Wash walked past, still talking. I saw another soldier run into Wash.

“Sorry sir.” He said, trying to run off. But wash stopped him. “What's going on. Soldier, where is everyone running to?”

The soldier paused, seeing his friends walking off without him. “New agent squaring off against Maine, York and Wyoming on the training room floor. We're going to watch.” He ran off. “Hey you guys, wait up!”

North looked at Wash. “3 on 1? I gotta see this. Wait, it's not Arizona is it?” 

Wash paused. “Let's find out.” He ran off, North close in his wake.

I got up and ran after them.

I walked into the training observatory. Beneath me a match was taking place. 3 on one. That was harsh. I turned to a group of freelancers that were watching, which I saw included North and Wash. “Um. Hello.” I started.

One of the soldiers wearing blue armour turned to face me. “Hello. You are?”

“Private Cross.” She looked at me sharply. “What?”

I realised my mistake. “Right. Agent Arizona.”

A collective sigh went up from the group. Wash turned to them. “Hey guys, just because she-“

The soldier in blue looked at me. “Why are you here?” She asked. She didn’t sound particularly malicious, but there was an undertone to her voice I couldn’t recognise. And something oddly familiar.

I shook the thoughts from my head. “I came here to train… But I guess it’s full?”

The soldier surveyed the room. All the freelancers were leaning against the wall, or finding some other way to ignore me. It hurt, and I didn’t know why they were doing it.

“Right.” Said the soldier. “North?”

He looked up. “Uhh… yes?”

“Take Agent Arizona” the last word was said with a twinge of sarcasm,” down to the training floor. Let’s see how she does against the Agents. Agent Texas may soon need an advantage.”

Another soldier, purple and green, looked up. “Feeling insecure there, number one?”

“Shut it South.”

South laughed and turned away

North walked out of the room, gesturing for me to follow.

“Why was she so harsh on me?” I asked, furious.

North turned on me. I detected a hint of humour in his reply. “Harsh? She just gave you an easy chance to prove yourself. When you get in there, you stay low, do whatever this Texas tells you. If you get a win, they won’t look at you like that anymore.”

I continued walking. “What’s with that anyway?”

“With what?”

“Them hating me. Don’t try to deny it, you saw what they were like back there.”

He sighed. “It’s complicated. But you prove yourself here, and they won’t doubt your skill.”

My skill? Why would that be up for debate? I had got this far hadn’t I? It wasn’t like I had just magically ended up here. I had worked for it for two years in various canyons full of idiots. Deserved this, maybe even more than them.

“Fine.” I said. No point arguing. “Any top tips?”

We reached the door. “Ok. You’re fighting with paint pistols, same recoil, same effect as the real thing, but it shoots paint which will instantly solidify on armour or anything, freezing it.” I nodded.

“You’re facing three freelancers. Maine is the big one with the weird helmet. He’s strong, but slow. Don’t underestimate him. Wyoming, the other white soldier. He’s a sharpshooter, but isn’t that bad at hand to hand. And finally York. He’s our brains, and in fact, the one that locked you out of the system.”

I glared at him, but he continued, oblivious or uncaring. “Anyway he’s ok at everything, but not the best at anything. He’ll go easy on you. The others won’t.”

The door opened. “And Texas? I asked.”

“Unknown. But she’ll keep you safe, I think.” He paused. “You know, with your armour colour, you could me her younger sibling. Which reminds me. Yeah, messing with Carolina, not a good plan.”

I walked in, then stopped. “Wait that was Carolina? Why didn’t you-“The door slammed shut. “Tell me…” I trailed off. “Well.” I turned and walked over to the far side of the room, feeling Wyoming and Maine’s gaze rake over me.

I had a feeling this wasn't going to end well...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly appointed Agent Arizona enters into a match with Texas against Agents Maine, Wyoming and York.

“Texas.” I called out. She turned to face me. 

“Hello. Arizona?” I nodded. “Right. Why are you here?”

Her voice was very defensive. Suddenly I realised how this looked to her. She was doing fine, beating up the agents. Sending me was the freelancers doubting her strength. I knew how that felt.

“I was sent here to help you. I realise you don't need it. If you want I'll just stay back here.” 

She looked at me. I wondered if she would turn away. But then she reached over to a table and handed me a pistol. “Stay safe. Shout if you need help.”

“Ok mum. And I won't stop and talk to any strangers.” I joked. Texas shook her head, then took up her position by a nearby pillar. I followed suit. The entire training room floor was covered with a grid of just over man height pillars. They would provide good cover, but also could conceal my opponents if they knew how to use it. Which they would.

The intercom signalled the round’s start. I snuck along one edge of the arena, hoping to go around the back and catch them by surprise. I heard sounds of fighting in the middle. I turned and went into the centre. 

Wyoming and Maine lay on the floor covered in paint, while Texas stood there, unhit.

“Right.” I said. “ So where's York?”

I felt something touch the back of my neck. A pistol. Without thinking, I dropped to the floor and struck out my legs, knocking his out from behind him. As my foot made contact with his legs, and rolled out of the way, leaving his to crash onto the floor. I picked up the paint gun, and finished the round.

Tex looked up, surprised. I threw the pistol in the air, saying, “Were you expecting me to be bad?”

I reached out to catch the gun, but it slipped through my fingers, sending a shot of paint across the arena. Tex and I both stared after it.

“Just. Forget you saw that.” Tex laughed slightly. We walked back to the starting point.

The next few rounds went much the same. I stayed back, letting Tex take the lead, but stepping in whenever need be, which was next to never. Despite that, I saw Carolina nodding approvingly out of the corner of my eye. I smiled a bit, seeing that. Maine and Wyoming grew furious, which made them all the more reckless. Meanwhile, York tried to rein them in, to work as a team. By the 7th round, I was pretty sure he had succeeded.

Tex and I were out in the middle, guns at the ready. But neither of us saw any enemies. I heard faint whispering from behind the wall and motioned to Tex. She gestured back, telling me to recon. I nodded, then snuck along the edge of the wall. The three each stood behind individual pillars, York in the middle.   
They hadn't seen me. I could shoot all three right now before they noticed me. But I was in a team. And so I curved back around the pillar and explained the situation to Tex. Then we stood, ready and waiting for their attack. And when it came, the three vaulting over their respective pillars, it was over within seconds.

Tex gave a short dismissive laugh. “Better luck next time, fellas.” Then she turned and walked away. After a brief, almost apologetic pause, I followed. It did seem kind of unfair of Tex to be so mean to them. I said this to her.

“I'm sorry, Arizona.” She mocked. “Didn't realise this was the flower scouts.” 

I picked up some ammo. “You know what I mean. These guys seem competitive. You don't want to make enemies of your teammates.”

She looked at me, suddenly angry. “I'm trying to prove myself, same as you.” She paused, loading the ammo into her gun, then put it down. “Tell you what. I've had a good few rounds. How about you prove yourself alone?” 

I had walked myself into this one. Backing down wasn't an option. I looked up. “Fine.”

She nodded, then leant against the table. I took up my position. Vaguely I heard Wash exclaiming from the observatory. I guess that he hadn't expected me to go solo. Even he doubted my skill…

“Round begins in 3-2-1” The voice called out.

A bullet flew past my head. Live rounds? 

“What the?-” I turned to Tex, but she had already grabbed her gun. “Keep moving!” She shouted, before running off.

I turned and ran the other way. I faintly realised that Wash had been warning us earlier, about the guns. That was nice of him. I shook my head, focussing. I ran, gun raised. Wyoming came round the corner. We stood there, both with our guns pointed at each other. 

“Step aside girl.” He said, dismissively. “Our quarrel is not with you.”

I kept my gun raised. “No. But it is with Texas.” I thought about adding a question about his Shakespearian language choices, but it didn’t seem to suit the current climate.

If I could shoot the muzzle of his gun, that could block it and stop it firing. I aimed and fired.

Suddenly I was on the ground, and my chest hurt. But I wasn't bleeding. I looked to my right. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding.” 

There lay a sort of stick of paint, at least half a metre long and thicker at one end. Smoke rose weakly from Wyoming's gun. Somehow, midair, the two projectiles had intercepted, and the paint had solidified around the bullet, forming what I saw as a short-sword. Or at least, that was what I used it as.

I grabbed it, digging my fingers in to form a grip. 

All of this happened in half a second, and Wyoming was only just recovered. I ran at him, using the paint to slash at his armour. Being made of paint it did no real damage, but unbalanced him. I finished throwing the blunt end into his head. My throw wasn't very strong, but it gave me ample time to grab my gun and get away, as he lay stunned on the floor from the force of the throw.

I saw Tex, stood in the centre of the arena, shoulder armour plate sparking from an injury.

I gestured. “What's that?” 

She didn't look at me, her helmet spying for threats. “It's a shoulder. If you can't recognise one, you need help.” She sighed, laced with slight pain and anger. “Wyoming. One shot.” 

“I dealt with him.” I said. “Who else?”

“York still has paint gun. He's on our side. Maine, still unknown.” She turned towards me. “Arizona!”

I felt myself be pushed aside. I pushed out with my legs and saw York fall to the ground beside me.

“York?” I said.

He dusted himself off. “Yeah. Thanks for the welcome after I save you.” 

“Save me?” I turned back to see Tex fighting Maine. I wouldn't have seen him from behind me…

“Yeah thanks sure.” I put my gun down. “How do we end the match?” 

York thought. “All of one team have to be immobilised.”

I shook my head. “I know. But how do we end the match match. The game. You know.”

“Oh right.” He looked up at the leaderboard. “Best of 15 apparently.”

I nodded. “That's this round then. Let's go tell Tex the good news.”

We jogged back to Tex as she splattered Maine into a wall. “OK. So, Tex-”

She turned, then punched York. “Really?!” He shouted. But he realised the same thing that I did, that this was the only way the round would end. So neither of us did anything except watch. Suddenly I saw Maine break free from the paint smashing a concrete pillar towards us.

Not thinking, I dived, pushing Tex out of the blast. York was caught up, and lay in the rubble. I stood up, shaking concrete off of me.

Tex punched Maine into a wall, covering him with enough paint for an entire house. I half-turned back to York, offering a hand. “Some people just don't know when to give up.”

I heard something fly through the air. Turning I saw a black ball. Frag grenade. I blinked. Maine must have thrown it. It bounced, landing by York. 

The pieces came together. “No!”

Tex turned. She raised her gun. Paint lockdown could save his life. But something else would save it more. I dived onto York, my back still sore from the concrete hitting it. I felt paint freeze my armour. The last thing I saw before the grenade exploded was Tex, shooting me in the back.

My eyes blinked open. Looking around, I saw the freelancers run in. I staggered to my feet, my hands gripping my side. Something had cut me there, but lightly. Carolina kneeled next to York. I had thought he would have been fine, but as I looked, I saw the crack in his helmet, caused by the grenade.

“Looks like you missed a spot.” I turned to see North. “You ok?” His voice was filled with concern.

I lifted my hand to show the wound. “Just a scratch.”

He shook his head. “You got off lightly. I still can't believe, Maine…” his voice trailed off.

We turned and watched as Carolina pulled off York's helmet.

She hid her cry well. But we all heard it. We all saw it as well, the line of blood pouring from his left eye, that odd whiteness filling his it, that I had only ever seen in movies, and read in books. He wouldn't ever see again with that eye. The sight of it was enough to make me sick.

North steadied me. “It wasn't your fault, Arizona.” 

I nodded. I knew it wasn't. But that didn't make it any better.

Just then the director entered. I walked, with North, to form a line in front of him with the other freelancers. The director starting talking, and though I tried to focus, my attention wandered.

My mind, adjusting to the shock of the last few minutes, let alone the last day, realised how lucky I had been. Aside from being the only member of the group that hadn't sustained serious injury, I had proven myself in several ways. 

I nudged North. “Hey. Did I do good?”

He whispered, “Well you beat the second best freelancer several times.” All the way through he kept his helmet on the Director, so no one could notice the difference. “Yeah.” He finished. “You did good.”

I realised just how good this match had actually turned out, obvious points aside:

By only fighting York, who didn't look like he would hold a grudge against me, I had proven my skill whilst not making any enemies. Even though I had fought Wyoming, I hadn't done so gloatingly, like Tex, so I was probably fine with him. And I had shown loyalty to the team by protecting York. Not bad, although I still felt I could have done a bit more to help York…

North nudged me, bringing me back to reality. “Agent North Dakota” the Director said.

“Yes sir.”

“Take Agent Arizona to the armoury. Get her some weaponry for the mission tomorrow.” 

“Right” said North, turning to leave. “Coming Wash?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

We left the training hall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arizona suits up.

Wash caught up with us halfway there to the armoury. “I can't believe him!” He said.

“Believe who? Maine?” Wash’s sudden outburst confused me.

“The Director!”

“What about him?”

North looked at me. “Arizona, weren't you paying any attention to the Director?”

I looked down at my feet. “Well. No. Not really.”

North shook his head humorously.

“It's not funny, North!” Shouted Wash. “Why'd he have a go at me like that?” 

North put his arm on Wash's shoulder. “Easy there Wash. Calm down.” Seeing my confused expression, he said,” Wash was arguing your case.”

“My case?”

“Against the Director. The Director was praising Maine and Wyoming for their teamwork and Wash felt it unfair they weren't being punished.”

“Oh right.” Wash entered the conversation again, his anger almost comedic. “I mean, come on! Someone could have died, as it is, we've got our second best Agent out of action and only her as a replacement.” He ended pointing at me.

“Gee, Wash. Thanks for the vote of confidence .”

“Sorry Arizona. I didn't mean. I just…” his voice trailed off. “Sorry.”

“Come on you two.” North interrupted before I could reply. “We're here.”

The armoury was massive. Rows upon rows of guns, pistols and knives. One corner even seemed to contain traditional swords. Wash caught me looking. “Yeah, those are just for training. Mind you, never try to fight Colorado or Virginia if they've got one of those.”

North laughed from a couple rows across. “Yeah, Wash here found out the hard way. How many weeks was it in hospital?”

“Oh ha ha. Can we get back to what we're here for?”

“Really? Sure you don't want to challenge me to a sharpshooter contest? Or Carolina at martial arts?” He turned to me. “So. What weapons do you need?”

I looked around at all the options. Most of them looked ridiculously advanced and I had a feeling that me using them would end in disaster. “Um…”

North sighed. “Ok. Let’s start with the basics. When we met, you had a sniper rifle, right?”

I nodded. North reached over to a shelf, then placed an identical weapon to the one I had had a few hours ago I my hands. “Is that a weapon you want for tomorrow's mission?”

In answer I put it on my back. Over the next ten minutes or so, we amassed my arsenal. A sniper rifle, an M6 pistol and a grappling hook that a nervous looking marine had told me I needed to have. At the last one North just said. “Yeah, they come in handy sometimes.” But I noticed his confusion, however well he tried to cover it up.

“Right.” Said Wash. “Anything else?”

I paused, looking around the room. I felt something was missing. I didn’t want anything clunky, the rocket launchers and chainguns just looked strange to me, but equally the thought of another long range weapon felt close to superfluous.

After a couple of minutes, North commented that it was like shopping with South, and Wash looked like he was losing patience. Something close range… Not a shotgun, like a rocket launcher, too clunky. Eventually I picked up a short, foot long dagger like blade, and attached its sheath point down between my neck and shoulder. I turned to North. “What next?”

We stepped into the locker room. “We keep our weapons here.” North explained. “Helmets, training equipment, whatever. You should have a locker somewhere. Probably near the back given as your low rank…” He trailed off, seeing my name engraved into the locker between his and Carolina's. “Or they'll just put you right in the middle because you're you.” His voice sounded faintly annoyed.

“What do you mean, I'm me?” 

He looked at me, almost pityingly, “if you can't work it out, maybe you don't belong here.”

Wash, hearing our conversation, came over. “Go easy on her North. Don't judge until after the mission. She's still a person.”

I was starting to get really tired of this. Everyone just automatically judging me for some reason. At least Wash was on my side.

North too, seemed to have realised he had been a bit harsh. “Sorry, just. Put your stuff in the locker and let's go. I want an early night tonight, after everything. Might go see York first though.” He glanced at my side, where the bleeding had stopped. “You might want to get that seen to.”

I nodded, and we headed off to the medical bay.

I sat on one of the 4 or 5 beds in the room, facing York, as a nurse checked and attended to my wound.

York lay there, his eye now stopped bleeding, on the bed, but had sat up at our arrival and now talked with us.

“Yeah, no I reckon Tex was just lucky.” York said. 

I turned to him, wincing at the renewed pain in my side. “More like you won't admit you were beaten by a couple of new recruited girls, fair and square.”

At the last words, North and Wash both flinched, and York raised his hand to his white eye. “I wouldn't exactly call it a fair match. But that wasn't either of your faults.” He shook his head. “Maniacs. I mean, I always knew Maine was reckless, but…” he sighed, then focussed his one good eye on me. “Gotta say, Arizona. You could have walked away, got off scot free. As it is, you kinda missed a spot.” I winced and looked down. “But not a lot of soldiers would have done that. So, thanks.”

“Yeah.” I said, feeling uncomfortable. The nurse seemed to realise the situation too, as they tactfully informed me I could leave, and my wound was fit for tomorrow's mission. I thanked them and left, heading, with Washington's instruction, straight to my quarters.

The next morning I was stood in front of the Director after being told to report to him first thing. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

He turned. “Yes. One of your jobs as an Agent is to help strategize our missions. Your skill set has suggested that you would be good at this. Examine the mission plan, and review it. Ask any questions you need.”

I was about to ask what mission plan I was to review, but just then a holo projection showed up on the table behind him, showing a play by play of what I assumed to be today's mission. Two pelicans disembarked from the mother of invention, heading into the city. “Display mission rosters.” I said, hoping there was some kind of program to interpret the words. Luckily there was, and the next moment I saw that North, CT and Wyoming were heading into the city, whilst myself, Wash, Carolina and Maine headed towards a building. With a sad pang, I saw the name York in the roster, with a large red INACTIVE written next to it.

I paused the mission and turned back to the Director, who was watching me intently. “What's the objective?” I asked. “Of the mission.”

The Director said, without any reservation, “Two objectives. The primary objective is a package of unknown size and dimension stored in a 110 storey building, which team A will retrieve.” He indicated a building on the map, which was the one the pelican containing myself was heading towards. So I was team A. “For the purpose of this mission it will be referred to as the sarcophagus.”

We turned our attention to the second pelican. “Team B’s objective is to recover the suitcase containing the access key to the sarcophagus. It will be retrieved whilst in transit on this highway.”

I nodded, then turned back to the mission play. Team A looked pretty clear, the speed we were expected to go would work fine, until…

“The rooftop won't work.” I said. The Director turned to me, surprised. “Really?”

I turned back to the map, and started dragging on enemy forces. “There's no way we'll get through the entire building undetected. From the looks of our leader board, none of team A specialise in locks or stealth.” 

The Director considered me. “So-?

“So, by the time we reach the roof, our extraction point, we'll be surrounded by all available forces, like this.” I gestured to the roof, which was now littered with enemy soldiers and military helicopters.

A light blue flash suddenly appeared, and I jumped back. What looked like a miniature light blue soldier, in freelancer armour, had just appeared on the table. 

“Uh hey there.” The projection said, before turning to the Director, who was looking furious. “Ok, so um… Geez, what's with the face. You all right there?” He turned to look back at me. “ Oh. Right. Um well anyway, I was looking at the mission.”

I interrupted him. “The rooftop won't work, we know.” The projection looked as though to make a comment, then thought better of it. “Ok, well, yes.” He turned to the Director. “Who is this person?”

The Director replied steadily, though with a note of annoyance and, intrigue? “This, Alpha, is Agent Arizona.” Alpha. This was PFL’s AI…

Alpha flashed red several times before regaining control of himself. “Arizona, huh?” 

I nodded. “Well next time, how about you don't try to hack me?” 

“ALPHA!” The Director shouted. The AI kicked the air mutinously. “I'm just saying.”

I decided to put my attention back on the mission. “Ok, so we need a way off the roof.” 

Alpha interjected, “How about an agent?”

“As a distraction?”

“Sort of. They turn up on the roof and beat some people up, you guys escape.” 

I nodded. “Yeah, that'd work.” I pulled up the roster. “How about South?”

But the Director answered first. “ Agent South Dakota is not coming on this mission.”

I sighed. “Ok then, guess it'll have to be-”

“-Texas” Alpha finished. I nodded. “Right, Texas.” I paused, remembering Carolina's look the day before at Texas’ arrival. “Carolina won't like that.”

“She doesn't have t-” the Director started.

“Send Texas in Team B’s pelican. They do a few circles before dropping her off, we get the timings right. Make sure she's got a big weapon. And hide her from the roster.” I turned to the Director. “Carolina's the best agent, she doesn't need to be distracted throughout the mission.”

The Director considered me. “You would lie to a teammate?”

“I would complete my mission, sir.” I retorted, holding his gaze. 

“Dismissed, Agent.” I looked at the board. “But sir, team B-”

“Dismissed. And Arizona.” He continued. “Tell nobody, about the Alpha. He is this project's most valuable asset.” I nodded, bemused by all this secrecy, and walked away.

I met Carolina in the locker room a few minutes later. She didn't speak at all, removing a pistol and battle rifle from her locker, but I noticed she looked a bit tense. I would have tried to comfort her, but I was just as nervous. I had seen the plan, and knew just how fragile it was. If I messed up… I closed the locker door and followed Carolina out the room.

We arrived in the briefing room to see all the other agent already lined up. I zoned out for most of the briefing, having effectively set it. Suddenly everyone turned to stare at me, over my shoulder. I turned and saw York walking in. I looked at the director, but he was looking the other way. Texas wasn't mentioned at all in the briefing. I hoped that was on my advice, and she would be waiting on the roof of the building. Even with York, I had a feeling this mission wouldn't go exactly to plan…


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arizona, York, Maine, Wash and Carolina leave on a mission to retrieve the sarcophagus.

I sat at the back if the pelican in silence.

“You ok?” Called Carolina.

I nodded mutely.

“Nerves?” Asked Wash. “Don't worry, your first mission can't go nearly as wrong as mine.”

York laughed. “Yeah. I couldn't believe the look on the Director's face at the debriefing!”

I decided to humour them. “What happened?”

“Oh, well just imagine this ok? Your team tasked you with holding a rope supporting a fellow teammate. You decide to let go-” York was cut off abruptly.

“I was taking fire!”

“No.” Interjected Carolina. “I was taking fire. And you dropping me 20ft really didn't help matters.”

I forced a laugh. So many thoughts were running through my head. What if I didn't do well enough? What if I did too well? People might die today because of me. But this was my first chance to fight in the war my mother died for, and I was determined to do her proud.

Suddenly the crackling voice of North sounded over the radio. “Team A, your window is clear. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Said Carolina. “We won't need it.”

The pelican doors opened and we stepped out in front of the 110 storey building.

“That's tall.” Said Wash.

“Yeah, it is.” Said Carolina. “Do me a favour and don't drop me off the side of this one.” I could've sworn she rolled her eyes at the end of that sentence.

“Shall we?” I gestured to the building. And we walked in.

“Floor 33.” Said Carolina, searching down her guns sights. “Still no hostiles.”

“Maybe they're all at home. Probably don't get paid overtime.” Said Wash.

I turned to him. “We get overtime?”

“No.” Said Carolina. “And stay focused. They could be hiding.”

We reached floor 74 before we found anyone. Around 20 marines stood, waiting for us, as we came up the stairwell. I quickly ducked down behind cover.

“Maine, grenade!” Said Carolina. A few seconds later a bang went off and we attacked.

The others ran off to face the main group of marines and I was left with two scared looking stragglers. I drew my pistol.

I dodged their shots, and two seconds later they lay dead, a circle in each of their heads.

“Nice work, everyone.” Said Carolina. “Let's move up. Our window only has ten more minutes.”

“Isn’t there a lift somewhere we could take?” I asked.

“What?” Smirked Carolina. “Out of breath?”

“Yeah.” I replied. “Also we don't need distractions like these,” I gestured at the dead bodies around us. “On every level.”

She thought for a second, then turned to York. “Do we know what level the vault is on?”

York nodded.

“I can't believe we're doing this.” Muttered Carolina. “Right, let's go!”

I stepped into the lift. “Hang on a second.” I gestured for everyone else to stop, then pointed at the weight limit sign. 500kg. “These suits, how much do they weigh?”

Carolina saw the issue. “About two hundred. Right. Two by two we go. York, go with her.”

York jogged past the others. “Level 86 everyone.” He stepped into the lift and we went up.

…Elevator music is really annoying, I thought. York, rolling backwards and forwards on his feet, seemed to share my frustration. “Sooooo…” he turned to me before we came to an abrupt halt.

The doors opened. “Great.” I said. At the end of the corridor there were 5 or so soldiers, weapons drawn.

York and I hid around opposite corners. I drew my knife and pistol, then signalled to him. 3-2-1. We ran along the corridor. For a few seconds they were too surprised to fire, and by then we were close enough to fire back.

I took down two soldiers with my pistol, then turned with my knife to take out another. They ducked and drew their own. We stared at each other for a few seconds, then met in a flurry of blades. My opponent was more skilled, their blade was constantly slashing my armour, but it only cut shallow indents rather than piercing the metal. Suddenly i dropped my knife, it smashed through a window and I was left unarmed. The soldier smiled and moved in for the kill. 

But just as they were about to plunge the blade down, a shot sounded and they fell to the ground, dead.

I turned and saw Carolina, holding her pistol, in the elevator doorway.

“That.” She said. “Was pathetic.”

I stood up, bursting with shame at my failure.

We stood in silence for two minutes, until the elevator pinged again and Maine stepped out. 

“Right.” Said Carolina, moving along the corridor, until we came face to face with a giant metal door, reinforced. And a helpful sign saying 'Vault.’ The subtlety was strong with these ones...

“Think this is it?” I joked, but on seeing Carolina's look, decided to keep my mouth shut in the future.

York started work on the lock. As I watched him, I wondered whether I should criticise his technique. On the other hand, it was a holographic lock, and he had lost his depth perception, so he deserved a bit of leeway

Suddenly alarms bells rang out.

“Oops.” Said York. “Hang on. There!” The door opened and I hurried in. 

“Doesn't look like much of a vault really, does it?” I asked.

It was a largish square room, with a small grid of waist high blocks, on which weapons were openly stored.

“Remember what we're here for” Carolina said, as we all walked off towards various tables. “It's probably something small, easy to miss. Take as many scans as possible. There might be other stuff here we can use.”

I walked along the tables, looking for a replacement weapon. I picked up a small piece of some kind of white metal with grooves cut into it. It felt like a handle of some kind, if I found the blade.

“Hey, Arizona!” Called Wash. “Found you a bracelet!”

He chucked over a wristband, which I attached to my left wrist. Wash walked over to join me. “What do you think it does?”

“I don't know. You gave it to me! Also, really? A bracelet? Were you even trying not to be sexist?”

“Hey. I'm not sexist! I have lots of bracelets!” He looked down. “I mean…”

I laughed. “Let's see if I can figure this out.” I looked at it. No display. Nothing to tell me what it was.

“Maybe it's motion activated?” Said Wash.

I waved my arms up and down. Nothing. I brought it in front of me, facing away from my body. Suddenly there was a flash of blue light and Wash was on the floor.

I looked down at him. “What happened?”

“I think you activated some kind of shield. Try again.” I raised my arm half way. “Away from me!”

“Oh. Right.” I turned to the left and held my arm out again. A blue shield had appeared, rectangular and slightly taller and wider than me, in front of me.

“Try hitting it!” I said to Wash. He did and his hand bounced off. He drew his gun and fired a few rounds at it, but they reflected too. I took the shield down.

“Yeah.” Said Wash. “That's definitely my bracelet.

“Eh. Finders keepers.”

“I found it!”

“Losers weepers.” I held up the mysterious handle. “Now if I could just figure out what this was…”

Wash stared at me.

“What?”

“Where did you get that?”

I gestured around the room. “From in here. Why, do you know what it is?”

“Yeah. Hold it like this.”

I copied his posture, handle in my right hand, and a sword fighter stance. I heard a whoosh sort of noise. The handle now belonged to a flat double bladed sword that looked like it was made of cyan light.

“That's pretty neat.” 

Wash was staring at me in shock.

“Was that not meant to work? Wash?”

He shook himself. “It's fine. I'll explain more later. Let's get back to looking for the sarcophagus.”

I nodded and replaced the sword on my suit.

A few seconds of searching later, and Wash jogged up to Carolina. I turned around and saw the sarcophagus, an almost cubic box, about 1 - 1.5 metres each side. And it didn't exactly look light.

“Team A, trackers indicate you've got an enemy team outside the door.” York said over the radio.

Carolina called from the edge of the room. “Wash, Zona, keep watch.”

I nodded, and pointed my sniper rifle at the door. “Can they get through the locks?” I asked, before noticing the sparks coming from the bottom of the door. “Oh. Right.”

Carolina joined us a few seconds later after sending the package up to the roof, using Maine as a counterweight.

She raised her battle rifle. “Fire on my mark. Sync?”

“Sync.” Said Wash and I.

The sparks stopped.

“Mark!” Shouted Carolina, firing into the door as it flew over our heads.

Suddenly realising I probably should have used my pistol instead, I fired off 4 shots blindly into the smoke.

I reloaded as the dust cleared, to see 4 dead soldiers and one, significantly more equipped one, still alive.

I fired at his armour, but the shot bounced off.

He raised his weapon, a hefty turret. As I tried to identify it, the end suddenly glowed orange. I stared at it, curious.

Suddenly flames erupted from the end of it. I dived behind a nearby block. “Guys.” I said. “I think that's a flamethrower…” I poked my head around the corner, and sharply drew it back as flames rocketed past my face. “Definitely a flamethrower.”

Carolina shook her head. “Any ideas?”

Wash nodded, then drew a grenade. He threw it at the flamethrower guy, but he intercepted it.

“Ah well. Arizona, you wanna take this?” Said Carolina.

I nodded, and drew my sword. Then I ran at the flamethrower person, shield in front of me. The force of the flame slowed me down, but the flames didn't touch me.

5 metres. 4 metres.

Suddenly the shield turned red. I stared at it, and in that moment it disappeared.

“Arizona!” Shouted Wash as the flames engulfed me.

I dived to the side, then smothered the flames that were all over my armour.

Carolina sighed and finished off the enemy by running up a wall and throwing a plane at him, then throwing a human sized hammer at him. Bit of overkill, in my opinion.

Wash and Carolina ran over. “Are you ok?” Asked Wash.

I stood up, and they saw the damage. Most of the front of the armour was burnt, and was a lot thinner in places. I doubted it would still stop bullets. But I was unharmed. For now.

“I'm fine. Let's get going.” My voice caught a little. Half a second more, and I knew I might not have been standing there...

“Right.” Said Wash, but he looked concerned.

“Come on.” Said Carolina. “Let's go.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding the sarcophagus, Arizona and the rest of Team A have to escape from the building, in light of her recent failures.

We met up with York outside.

“Let's go, come on.” He said, resealing the door. “There, that ought to hold them. 

We ran to the roof.

“So, “I said, running next to Carolina. “That didn't work out so well.”

She stopped running and faced me. “Look, I was wrong about you.”

A puzzled expression came across me. “You mean, like in a good way?” 

She sighed and started jogging again. “You're not the soldier I thought you were. Just stay low for the rest of the mission. Don't do anything. At all.”

I recoiled. “Carolina, I slipped up, ok? It doesn't mean I can't do this!”

“Freelancers don't slip up.” There was a clear message to her words, we had finished this conversation.

“Who the hell is that?” She said as we reached the roof.

I followed her gaze to see Agent Texas. I sighed in relief. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete and utter failure. Carolina glared at me. “You knew about this?”

“I- I” I stuttered but she had already strode off. I sighed and ran after her. This was the last thing we needed right now.

Carolina walked up to Texas. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Carolina, I-" I started, but Wash silenced me. I turned to him.

"Trust me Arizona. You're not going to win this one."

I sighed. "Should I have sent her here?"

York jogged up to us. "Wait, you sent Tex here?" I nodded. "Well." Said York. "Not your best plan. But we definitely needed someone, we're far too exposed up here."

As he spoke, 15 or so helicopter rose up in a circle, surrounding up. 100 or so marines burst out of the stairwell and surrounded us.

"Drop your weapons!" Shouted the leader of the group, an insurrectionist in black armour with red highlights.

I dropped my gun and looked around.

"You!" I turned, but the soldier was talking to York. "Disarm the bomb."

As York walked over, I looked at the device, a flat square panel thing. It didn't really look like a bomb to me...

"That's not a bomb. It's a transmitter."

I smiled, looking up at the sky. They were going to fire a MAC round at the building. I mean, I had asked for Texas to come heavily armed, and a Ship destroying beam definitely qualified as heavy armament.

With the soldiers briefly distracted by the transmitter, I grabbed Wash and starting running towards the edge of the building. The shockwave of the blast suddenly hit, knocking me to the ground. I looked back and saw the beginnings of the roof caving in. I pulled myself to my feet and ran again. I halted at the edge of the building, looking out for the extraction Pelican. It was too far away, the building would collapse before we reach it.

I turned back to look at the others. "What the hell are you doing?!" Shouted Carolina. "JUMP OFF!"

I stared at her. "What?! Are you crazy?!"

She, Wash and York then jumped off the building, leaving me stood on the edge, torn between not wanting to fall off a building to my death, and not wanting to fall with a building to my death.

“Arizona!” I turned to see Tex, waving a metal contraption in her hand. She threw it to me, shouting “Jet pack!”

I gave a sigh of relief. Suddenly the ground beneath me lurched, and the jetpack sailed past me.

I stared at it in horror for a few seconds, then steeled my nerves and jumped after it.

I fell through the air, spread-eagled, searching for the jetpack as bullet rang out from the ongoing battle between insurrectionist and freelancer. A sudden glint of metal caught my eye, and I drew my arms into a steep dive, narrowly missing a helicopters blades.

I flashed past Carolina and York, swallowing as the ground drew ever closer. Just a few more feet and I would have the jetpack. I stretched out with my arm and grabbed it, placing it on my back with mere metres before the hard concrete. 

I zoomed up and dived into the Pelican, narrowly avoiding Wash, who was waiting with the sarcophagus, and Agent Texas.

She nodded to me, “Arizona” then jumped back out the Pelican, leaving her broken jetpack behind.  
I sat down on the Pelican, holding my head in my hands. Wash sat down opposite. “You ok there?”

I sighed. “I screwed up back there Wash. You and me both know that I’m not cut out to be a freelancer.” I gestured around me. “Not cut out for this.”

He sighed. “None of us are.”

“What?”

He repeated himself. “None of us were cut out to be freelancers. We’ve trained, for years, and become a cohesive unit. You’re new to this. But that doesn’t mean that if you try, you can’t become a freelancer.” He pulled me up. “PFL monitors activity in the simulation outposts. I’ve seen how you fight. Even if the others haven’t. I know that you can do this.”

I thought about what he said. He believed in me, and I trusted his judgement. “Wash?”

He looked over. “Yeah?”

“Why does everyone think I’m rubbish?”

He sighed. “When Project Freelancer-“ He started, but was cut off by the radio.

“Team B.” Came Carolina’s voice. “What is your status? Over.”

“Not good.” Came North’s reply. “We have wounded and are taking fire. You’ll have to get the package.”

I walked to the edge of the Pelican. We were still over the city, but we wouldn’t be for long. I went over to the Pilot.

“What are you doing?” Asked Wash.

I spoke to the Pilot. “I want you to do a flyby of Team B’s location. Low altitude. Tell me when to drop out.” 

The Pilot nodded. “Should be about one minute. Make sure you’re ready.”

I walked over to the rear door.

“You sure you want to do this?” Asked Wash.

“I’m not doing this to prove myself Wash. I’m doing this because my teammates need help.” I turned to Wash. “Are you coming?”

He shook his head. “Someone needs to keep the home fires burning, right?”

I laughed slightly, grabbing a spare sniper rifle from the Pelican. I had lost mine on the rooftop. Then on the Pilot’s mark, I jumped out.


End file.
